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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26740837">Where Broken Hearts Stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/munbun/pseuds/munbun'>munbun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Grieving, M/M, Suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:13:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26740837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/munbun/pseuds/munbun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles found Arthur, broken and barely breathing, on that mountain top. He took him to the Wapiti, and they fled north with Arthur's father. Dutch made some decisions after Hosea left him for good and forever, and took Micah out of the world with him.</p>
<p>Post game, canon divergent.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith, Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Where Broken Hearts Stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ricky nelson - lonesome town</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hosea Matthews set the broadsheet down on the pine plank table, running his thumb firm across the crease and making the paper wrinkle. The radio buzzed softly in the corner, a soft and somber voice with a halo of static cooing to the dust. Hosea sucked in a wet breath, blinking a couple times against the threatening tears.</p>
<p>“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said quietly, cutting through the tense murmur of conversation.</p>
<p>His hand shook as he retrieved his pipe from his coat pocket. He stepped out the door, leaving the newspaper with its grim black letters staring at the ceiling.</p>
<p>
  <b>NOTORIOUS OUTLAW DUTCH VAN DER LINDE TOOK OWN LIFE</b>
</p>
<p>The Canadian chill whipped right through Hosea’s clothes, flesh, and bones. He liked how it made him feel as thin and insubstantial as a stick half frozen in a lakebed. He felt like if there were anyone around to see him, the wind would whisk away his form, and no one would see the tears burning in his eyes. He lit his pipe with a match, and sucked down the smoke, a tiny flicker of heat in his worn out lungs against the cold, cold world.</p>
<p>The door creaked open, and Hosea didn’t turn around to acknowledge the intruder. Privately, he burned with a rage that he would have listened to as a younger, more foolish man. A desperate plea to be alone with his grief, for <i>god's sake just leave him alone.</i></p>
<p>Charles came up to the porch rail beside Hosea, crossing his arms and leaning them on the splintering wood. Despite the cold, the cleared meadow of their encampment glittered gold in the thin sunlight. Charles stared at it contemplatively, then parted his lips to draw in a breath and speak.</p>
<p>“I’m not well practiced in this sort of thing, so if I just make this worse, I’m sorry. I know that… Despite everything he put us through, Dutch meant a lot to you. Maybe even everything to you.” Hosea’s hand tightened into a fist around the packet of tobacco in his pocket. “And… I can’t even begin to imagine the kind of pain you’re going through. I’m sorry, Hosea.”</p>
<p>Hosea nodded slightly, eyes staring into the tree line but seeing Dutch. Seeing his black ringlets as delicate and intricate as lace. Seeing his hands, so calm and steady. Seeing his eyes, so intent, so hungry. Seeing the home they dreamed of together, their children, their golden years. The tears burned as they slid down Hosea’s face.</p>
<p>“I wasted so many years on that lie,” Hosea said softly. “<i>Next time, Hosea, we’ll settle down next time. We were so close. We can get there. Next time.</i>” Hosea took the pipe from his mouth, resting his hands on the banister to keep himself upright. “Now I don’t have that many years left in me, if any. I’m too old for dreams. He used me up.”</p>
<p>Charles stared at the side of Hosea’s worn out face for a long moment before looking toward the horizon. His insides squirmed with awkwardness, not sure how to handle the monumental mass of a man grieving his traitorous husband. He spoke anyway. “What was your dream, Hosea?” he asked quietly.</p>
<p>“A little parcel of land that we could live off of as honest men.” He had to clear his throat to continue. “Where we could raise our sons, and be in love, and no one could ever tell us no again. Tell us we couldn’t be who we are. Tell us the world didn’t want us.” Hosea gripped the banister tighter, his knuckles white and straining. “Now I’m going to die alone, the fool that believed he loved me.”</p>
<p>Charles turned slightly as Hosea broke into sobs, like dawn reaching over the horizon. Bleak and colorless. It hurt far too much to watch. He stepped across the porch, to the bedroom window. His love lay inside, thin and pale and struggling to breathe under the weight of the blankets on his chest. Arthur stared listlessly into the room, tear tracks dried on his face.</p>
<p>“You didn’t lose your dream, Hosea,” Charles said softly. Arthur stirred at the sound of a voice beyond the window pane, and those sunlight eyes, so taught with pain, met Charles’s. “He gave them to you, whether he meant it or not. We’ve got a new life up here in Canada, where no one knows our name and no one’s going to tell us no. You’ve got your sons and a few extra, though a few are a bit worse for the wear. You’ve got everything you need, Hosea.” Charles turned to look at the old man’s trembling form. “You just never needed him.”</p>
<p>Hosea stood up slowly, turning to look at Charles fully. He gave a small nod, his mouth drawn in a thin, pale line. “I still loved him, though,” Hosea said, voice almost swallowed by the wind.</p>
<p>“I know,” Charles said.</p>
<p>Charles turned and stepped into the comforting embrace of the warm cabin. Hosea looked back at the woods, and noticed the sun, barely pushing small notches of bright gold life through the pines.</p>
<p>“I loved you,” Hosea said, then turned, and went inside.</p>
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